Softening of the Heart
by Claudia's Evil Twin
Summary: She's been alone all her life, her innocence stolen before she'd even reached adulthood. The pursuit of knowledge is the only thing that kept her going. Will she let down her guard to let a raven-haired boy in, or be tempted by the power of the Dark Lord?
1. Chapter 1: Off to Hogwarts

A.N. This is my first fanfiction. Story doesn't necessarily follow strictly books or movies, but mixes them to my liking. Mischievous, I know. Harry/Oc maybe. I don't know yet. The main character is my creation. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own harry potter.

She stared at the wondrous scene before her as one might stare at the grass as it grows. She'd just walked through a solid barrier to behold a large train station. Parents hugged and fretted over their children all over Platform Nine and Three Quarters. There were no parents to see her off on her journey. It's not that they didn't care enough to accompany her. It's just they'd been dead for many centuries now.

No, she wasn't human. She was flesh and blood, yes, but not human. She'd been turned at the age of fifteen, and was now frozen forever in that delicate frame. Her days were spent idly doing whatever she pleased, but once the sun set, she stalked the streets, hunting for her next victim. She was a vampire.

Now, forget everything you've heard about vampires up to this point. The sun harmed her not, nor crosses or garlic for that matter. When she was a new born Creature of the Night, she did need the blood. But she was much older now, and only drank out of want. Her victims did not rise from their graves to feed on the living. Her countenance was as youthful as the day she was born into the dark world; not bloated in appearance, ruddy, purplish, or dark in color as some would be led to believe. And as of yet, she hadn't been able to turn into a bat, or any other creature.

These were the few things she knew of herself and her kind. The only other vampire she'd met was her maker, and on the night he drained her of her own blood to near death, then filled her again with his own demonic blood, he'd only instructed her to look after his worldly assets before he threw himself into the large bonfire. She'd learned everything on her own. How to hunt and how to blend in with the humans.

That was easy enough, the blending. Her fangs were small and would not be seen unless she opted to show them. Her long, graceful limbs did have to check their strength constantly, for humans were indeed fragile creatures. Her brass skin was always vibrant. Her long, wavy black hair could shield her large amber eyes, which alone held a spark of preternatural power. She could dine with humans, creating the illusion that she was eating along with them. She hadn't forgotten how to move like them, seeing as she had a way of moving to fast for eyes to follow. She knew how to feed without killing. And she knew how to do so publicly without alarming anyone.

But, there were so many things she did not know, and she thirsted for knowledge. What was she exactly? Why did she crave blood? Where did this evil begin? Were there others?

She pushed her cart over to the place where her things would be loaded and boarded the train, avoiding curious eyes.

They must not get many transfers, she thought. (That would be her story, that she'd transferred from a magical learning institute in America.) Or maybe they were transfixed but her beauty, as many men and women had over the centuries. She didn't care. She didn't much care about anything. Maybe that comes from being alone so long.

She found and empty compartment, and took her place. No one bothered her, save for the lady with a trolley full of sweets she'd never heard of. She waved the woman away, with a long, delicate looking hand.

She was here by a divine accident. She'd discovered the secret society of witches and wizards in the midst of her study of ancient alchemy and black magic. Such things had held her fascination since she knew of their existence. She had mastered many dark magicks as well. She could move and set things afire with the willpower of her mind. She could manipulate the shadows to swallow unsuspecting mortals into a realm of isolation, fear and darkness(As amazing as this sounds, she didn't much use this power, The first time she tried it, it nearly broke her heart.). She could peer into the mind of anything that thinks, and close her mind to anyone with the same power. She'd recently discover that she could talk to snakes. And at the present moment, she was trying to master the power to bottle one's pain and unleash it a thousand fold upon any target. It was and Egyptian magic, so she'd found herself caring around a book of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. But she wanted more knowledge, and what better place to learn than from a school?

As soon as she learned of Hogwarts she applied, stating that she was in need of a transfer, for she'd just moved from America. They accepted without a fuss as sent her a list of things she would need. A little mind probing of wandering wizards and she found where she could acquire these things. Then, she would kill them and take their money, so she wouldn't have to steal from the stores.

And here she was, on a train to a place where she could learn more. It excited her, no doubt, even though her bored expression would lead you to believe otherwise.

Her mind worked over these things until the train stopped. She'd changed into her black robes and dismounted the train.

She hadn't been paying attention to where she was going when a group of three boys passed her by. The blond, thin one began jeering at one of the three people directly in front of her.

"Surprised the Ministry's letting you walk around free, Potter. Better enjoy it while you can. I expect there's a cell in Azkaban with your name on it."

The boy called "Potter" lunged at the other boy only to be caught by the arms of his tall, redheaded companion. The blonde had flattened against the wall in reaction, and walked away when he deemed the danger over.

Coward, Naomi thought (that was her name, Naomi de Laboucher*). But what he'd said intrigued her. Azkaban? Some sort a jail, perhaps? What had this "Potter" done to be put in jail. Potter. That name sounded familiar. The Ministry? No idea. And why did mortals always travel in packs? She hadn't had any ones companionship in over 200 years, and had never thought it necessary. Friends were for the weak who could not survive on their own, and Naomi was anything but weak.

She followed the first years, as she was instructed, so that she could be sorted, whatever that had meant. She got into a boat, as instructed by the game keeper, crossing the lake without speaking word to the young mortals. She was lead into the large castle along with the first year students. The letter told her she would be starting at Fifth year, and it must have been odd for the children to see an older person along with them. She would be sorted first.

She peered into the great hall, where there was an old hat the sat on a stool. Silence fell as the students gawked at her, and the sorting began.

*Boucher (pronounced boo-chay) is a french surname meaning blood thirsty man. La is a feminine article. basically put, Naomi, the blood thirsty woman. :)


	2. The Sorting

A.N. Switch of POV. Harry narration for a while.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

She was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. He'd have thought she was a Veela, but there was no unearthly glow about her. No, simply elegant beauty. For some reason, he found that all his troubles had melted away as he gazed at her gorgeous features. Almost getting expelled, the whole wizarding world thinking he was insane, Cedric, all things seemed insignificant. But there was something quite eerie in that, for this was only the first time he'd seen her. It wasn't as it was with Cho, who he'd known and seen and experienced. No, this was a total stranger stirring these emotions in him. Her brass skin, the slant of her gorgeous eyes, the sweetness of her full lips, and delicious curves were crying out for him to ravish her.

He tore his eyes away from her, and regained a sensible train of thought. It was as if he'd been under a spell. He glanced around the hall, noticing the way almost everyone gazed at her. Even Malfoy couldn't hide his thoughts. The only ones that seemed impervious to the girl's charms were Hermione and the teachers. It was odd. Maybe there just wasn't room in her head for those thoughts. Harry snickered.

When her name had been called Harry could not remember, nor could he remember what it was, and he daren't look at her again. He saw Hermione roll her eyes when she realized the effect the girl had on the hall. Every table seemed to be yearning to hear the name of it's own house. And then, as if to spite him, the shout came loud and definite. "GRYFFINDOR!!!!"

A string of triumphant shouts rose from the Gryffindor table and the fanfare would not cease until she was fully situated. She sat on the edge of the table closest to the teachers. Harry could see people trying to make conversation with her, but she was either oblivious or was straight up ignoring them.

Then the _real _sorting began. The names of the first years echoed in the back of everyone's mind, and even during the welcome cheers for the newly sorted schoolmates, they all were still a little transfixed by the presence of the new exchange student.

Dumbledore stood, giving the school announcements and welcoming all the new comers, when a stoutly woman and a pink cardigan stood to introduce herself as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He listened to her little speech, feeling instantly alarmed. He turned to Hermione and asked, "What does this mean?" She replied, "It means the Ministry's interfering with Hogwarts."

At the end of the start of term feast, the three friends rose to take their leave. Ron and Hermione waved bye and said that they would meet up again in the common room. Harry then remembered that it was their duty to lead the first years through the simplest way to the anger he'd felt the previous night when he'd learned that Ron and Hermione had been made prefects, and not him, came rushing back as he wondered why Ron had been made a prefect instead of him. Harry noticed a group of younger children were staring, and, naturally, he waved. but, the kids gawked at him in fear, before rushing away.

Harry was discouraged. He felt alone in the world at that point. Once the entire wizarding had revered as the Boy Who Lived, and while the attention was not welcome then, it was certainly better than being known as the Boy Who Lies.

He was at the brink of becoming majorly depressed when Cho Chang caught his eye. She gave him a somewhat sad smile, for of course she was still sad about Cedric, as was he. But, even so, it was enough to lift his spirits. He waved, and she waved back before turning to leave the hall with her friends. Harry began to exit as well, and in doing so the girl, the new exchange student, also caught his eye. It was almost just like last time, only he kept his thoughts pure. He went stock still when she looked back at him, her cold stare doing much more damage than Professor Snape's ever could.

It was a moment that seemed like an eternity, yet in reality, it only lasted for a fraction of an instant before she turned to walk away.

Harry felt the strong urge to run after her, to talk to her, to . . . no, not that. What business did he have thinking those thoughts? He, who'd never even kissed a girl? Even so . . .

But he'd have to find her first.

She'd disappeared. Vanished. He'd been looking directly at her. He'd watched her turn around. But after that, there was nothing. She was . . . just . . . gone.

Harry arrived at the common room, wondering how the girl had managed to disappear like that. He'd been so preoccupied that he didn't notice the copies of the Daily Prophet circling around, or how quiet the common room became when he arrived. He only noticed one thing, she wasn't there.

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Feedback would be appreciated


	3. Potions Class

AN: Still Harry POV. Some sentences straight out of the book. I've changed a few things when editing. How come none of you told me I had so many misspellings?

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Harry awoke the next morning feeling confused and a little disoriented. He remembered the last thought he'd had before slipping into a peaceful, dreamless sleep was of that girl. But, why was he thinking about her? Sure, she was gorgeous; rather, she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, but why? Why did she affect him the way she did? He remembered the great hall. There's no way a normal person could do that to so many people. Even veela weren't _that_ charming.

Charming! She must have put a charm on herself to make everyone fall in with love her!

No. That was unlikely, especially seeing how she clearly wouldn't talk to anyone at the feast, let alone smile

Harry didn't know why he was thinking about it, or why he even cared. He would have thought the girl had put a love spell on him if he didn't know he was thinking the same things as everyone else in the school.

"Harry? Are you up yet, mate? You'll miss breakfast...."

"I'm up Ron," he'd answered rather shortly. He felt bad for taking his anger out on Ron, then he remembered Ron's prefect status. What was Dumbledore thinking? Making _Ron_ a prefect?

He'd hoped half heartily, that the girl wouldn't show up for breakfast. He couldn't suffer her presence, at least, not this early. Hermione chatted away with Ron about what they expect in Umbridge's class today. Reminding Harry that she was indeed the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, bringing his spirits down even lower. Then they started on another subject one that Harry dreaded even more than Umbridge.

"He, what's the deal with that new girl?" Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't know. She completely self-absorbed."

"Maybe she's just shy," Ron defended. "She is really hot though..."

Hermione huffed, hiding Harry's quiet sigh. He really meant to say something else, but his mind seemed to be in shambles.

"You think so too, huh?"

Ron laughed, "Everyone thinks so. Even the girls, well except Hermione (snicker), can't stop talking about how pretty she is. We all thought she was part veela, like Fleur. But-"

"She doesn't glow," Harry finished. "But, who is she? Where did she come from?"

"What's she like in the dormitory?" Ron asked Hermione.

She frowned, obviously trying to find _something _negative to say.

"As a matter of fact, I couldn't tell you. I haven't seen her at all. Not last night or even this morning."

Now that was something worth talking about. Or was it? Why was he looking for a reason to talk about her? Didn't he have much, MUCH more important things to worry about? Like perhaps Voldemort, and the Order? But then, _why_ _couldn't he get her off his mind? _He remember locking eyes with her, and the urge, no, the _need_ to be near her. Maybe she'd put a spell on him then? But, why would she do that?

And it was doubtful that she'd put a spell on the entire school, for Harry had overheard many conversations that'd centered around her just this morning, let alone last night. Maybe everyone's just curious, and looking for something else to occupy their minds, instead of Harry, Dumbledore, and You-Know-Who. Maybe even Harry didn't want to think about it.

It just seemed so strange that she would come to Hogwarts at such a time, when there were all these malicious rumors flying around about Hogwarts. So, either her parents believed Harry's story and sent her to Hogwarts to be safe, or . . . or she was a spy for Lord Voldemort . . .

_Where did that come from? _But, it was plausible. This wouldn't be the first time Voldemort had gotten one of his own in Hogwarts. However, the suspicion seemed a bit premature. So_, _in an effort to cover his new found paranoia, Harry asked, "Do either of you remember her name?"

Both Ron and Hermione had opened their mouths to speak, only to realize that neither of them in fact knew anything about her including her name. It was definitely too early to assume she was on the dark side.

The owls had arrived; Harry'd looked up, noting that Hedwig was nowhere to be seen. That didn't surprise Harry, since his only correspondent at the present time was Sirius, and he probably didn't have anything new to tell him after a mere twenty four hours. Maybe Harry should send him a letter about the new girl. Maybe once he knows her name, he can as Sirius if her family had been renowned Death Eaters.....

Soon after the mail arrival, Professor McGonagall began passing out schedules, which did nothing to improve Harry's mood.

"Look at today!" Ron groaned. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, double Defense Against the Dark Arts....Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman in one day!"

"That's the worst Monday I've ever seen...." noted Harry, happy that the conversation had taken this turn. Anything to try to not think about that girl, for the more he did, the grander his imaginings became. But how healthy was the paranoia? Harry thought it was better than think the same thoughts that plagued his mind upon first seeing her.....

"D'you reckon it's true this year's going to be really tough? Because of the exams?"

They talked unenthusiastically about the O.W.L.s, and possible career paths, even though the topic they truly wanted to discuss was that of the girl.....

By the way, Harry's first wish had come true. The girl had completely skipped breakfast.

Harry's mind was conflicted as he headed to History of Magic. He'd been wondering when he would see that girl next. He wasn't really sure whether he wanted to see her or not. It seemed he wasn't in control of his thoughts or his body when he looked at her, but she was just so beautiful...why wouldn't anyone _not_ want to look at her?

But he didn't have to worry, for she wasn't there. She didn't even care to walk in late, she just wasn't there. Every fifth year shared the same schedule with their house, so there wasn't really a legitimate reason for her not to be there. His mood went down all more, Harry realizing just how much he wanted to see her.

And thus his second wish was granted at break time.

A small argument ensued between Ron and Hermione when Hermione had confronted Harry and Ron on their lack of attention in class. The banter would not cease until they'd reached the rainy court yard, and just before seating themselves, they spotted the girl, coming from the direction of the direction of the Dark Forest.

Harry didn't notice, for he'd been transfixed by her visage himself, that everyone in the court yard went silent, being overcome with longing and adoration as they always were when in her presence. She was again, oblivious, her eyes cast down as she neared the school.

She wasn't dressed in school clothes, for one, but was scantily clad and a black leather ensemble, as if her beauty weren't already too much to bear. Harry noted that she walked extremely gracefully to be wearing combat boots. Harry cursed mentally. Why was it that everything about her was just so......perfect?

The, one thing worth noting was that she was carrying something. It shone a little, for there was no sunlight to reflect off of it. Harry guessed that it might be gold. Now _that _was suspicious. She hadn't been seen since leaving the hall last night after the feast, and now she was seemingly coming from the dark forest, in muggle clothes, carrying what looked like gold. It didn't really make sense, and Harry couldn't begin to guess what she'd been doing.

Harry, having finally torn his eyes away from her, glanced to see Hermione glaring at the back of Ron's head as he gawked at the girl, only stopping when Harry took notice. He then proceeded to glance around the court yard to gauge everyone's reaction to her. It was as if they were watching some unnatural phenomenon, yet this was all for a girl. Fleur had never received such reverence, especially from the females.

The girl had passed them, coming quite close to them, for they weren't very far from the entrance to the school. She refused to look anywhere except for the ground directly in front of her feet. For all her quietness and obvious disdain for attention, Harry got the feeling that she was the opposite of shy.

"Bloody hell....."

Ron had finally seated on the other side of Harry, away from Hermione (after looking at her and assessing that this was the best course of action). "And I thought Fleur was beautiful."

Harry shook head, forcing himself to focus on his friends, instead the unwarranted thoughts about the girl that seemed to come from somewhere far away instead of his own mind.

It was quite easy, actually, this "attack" of random thoughts being much less irresistible than it had before. He wanted to agree with Ron, but also didn't want to talk about the girl, or further upset Hermione. Harry didn't know if Ron genuinely couldn't help himself from making this confession, or if he'd said it to make Hermione jealous. Either way, she seemed on the short side or fury right now.

There was a rather tense silence after the girl had gone out of sight, but this was short lived, for someone had walked around to corner toward them.

"Hello Harry."

It was Cho Chang, who happened to be on her own now. Harry had been watching her long enough to know that this was rare indeed, for she was almost always surrounded by a group of giggling friends. It seemed an odd coincidence that whenever Harry saw that girl, Cho showed up. He wondered off handedly what Cho thought about her. He almost asked her too, but through further deliberation decided against it.

"Hi."

"So, you got that stuff off then?"

Harry felt his face grow hot as he remembered their first meeting this year, when Neville had accidentally covered the entire cabin in Stinksap, just before Cho had walked in.

"Yeah," he replied, trying to pass the memory off as funny rather than mortifying. "So....How was your holiday?"

He mentally cringed just after asking her that, for he knew that Cedric's death had undoubtedly affected her summer just as much as it did his.

"Oh, it was all right....yours?"

"It was okay."

It was a rather awkward conversation, and was blessedly ended by Hermione mentioning that they had to leave or they'd be late for their next lesson. The two said goodbye and parted.

The trip down to Snape's dungeon was silent, Hermione still mad at Ron for so much paying attention to that girl, and Harry's mind split between his crush on Cho and his abnormal obsession with the exchanged student.

They'd entered the Potions class room, only to see the beautiful girl once again. Needless to say, they were caught off guard. Yet again, as the students filed in, staring at her when the noticed her presence, she was oblivious. She was look at the gold thing she was holding earlier, which harry could see now was some sort of book. He wasn't close enough to see what was written in it, but he could see that the individual pages were made from gold, and whatever was written in it was carved in.

Harry jerked his head away in order to be able to seat himself without tripping. the trio sat in their usual spot in the back, which was indeed just across the way from the girl. The students waited in silence for Snape to start class, unable to form rational thought in the beautiful girl's presence.

"Settle down." the call to order was completely unnecessary; even under normal circumstances, the students would cease all noise at the sound of Snape's entry.

"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk, his eyes staring in the direction of the students, resting momentarily on the exchange student, who was still intently studying her golden book (Harry thought it quite odd that Snape did not address her, and seemed not to mind at all that she wasn't paying any attention, the memory of his first time in this class and how Snape had chewed him out for taking notes),"I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you've learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my . . . displeasure."

His gaze this time lingered upon Neville, who gulped.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease to be studying with me," Snape went on, "I take only the best into me N.E.W.T. Potion class, which means thatsome of us will certainly be saying goodbye."

His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry glared back, feeling a grim pleasure at the idea that he would be able to give up Potions after fifth year.

"But we have another year to get before that happy farewell," Snape said softly, "so whether you plan to attempt a N.E.W.T. or not, I advise you to concentrate on maintaining the high pass level I've come to expect from my O.W.L. students.

"Today we will be mixing a Potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing."

On Harry's left, Hermione sat up a little straighter, her expression one of the utmost attentiveness. In total opposition, Ron slumped even further in his seat. In a daring, swift move, Harry glanced over to the beautiful girl, who was still buried in the golden book. He glanced over the rest of the classroom, noting that all of the students appeared to have gotten over the initial shock of the girl's close proximity to them, and seemed to be carrying on just fine. Snape, on the other hand, was just ignoring her all together.

"The ingredients and the method"- Snape flicked his wand -"are on the blackboard" - (they appeared there)- "you will find everything you need" - he flicked wand again- "in the cupboard" - (the door of said cupboard flung open)- "you have an hour and a half . . . Start."

The students set out to start their work, and just as Harry would have expected, Snape couldn't have assigned a more tedious task. It was difficult enough to try to make the potion without any distractions, yet not only was Snape floating around the room in an effort to make the students more nervous than they already were, not one student could go more than a few minutes without glancing in the beautiful girl's direction. She hadn't put away her book, and wasn't even focused on the task at hand.

"A light silver vapor should be rising from you're potion, " Snape said five minutes before the end of the period.

Harry was sweating, for his own potion was emitting thick black smoke. A glance around the room told him that no one's potion was going that well, Ron's firing off green sparks, and Seamus nothing at all. The only cauldrons with a surface of shimmering mists of silver vapor were that of Hermione's and the exchange student's. Snape looked down his hooked nose at Hermione's, and having found nothing to criticize, moved over to the cauldron of the beautiful girl. He stared deep into the potion, making a face that was reserved for his favorite Slytherins.

"Well done, Miss . . . ?

"Mademoiselle de Laboucher," she responded, not looking up. Harry nearly fainted. Her voice was . . . sweet, deep for a girl, but still ultimately feminine. It was lush. From movies he remembered watching during long summers at the Dursleys', he pinpointed her accent as that of Lousinana, not French, even though that's what she'd spoken just now. Her voice matched her in its beauty.

"Yes . . . Mademoiselle." Snape repeated, not attempting the French name.

"Now," he began, "everyone, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing. Homework: twelve inches on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion making to be handed in on Thursday."

Harry noticed Hermione's infuriated gestures as she filled her flagon. Harry was just dumbfounded. Never in the history of Potions class has Snape complimented a Gryffindor. And this little incident did nothing to dispel the notion that there was something extremely off about that girl.

And how was it that her potion came out so perfect when she barely paid it any mind?

For a Gryffindor to have such an effect on Snape was unheard of. It seemed the teachers weren't impervious to her . . . whatever it was . . . either.


	4. Meeting Her

AN: Switching POVs. I hope you like it. If you don't, tell me what I need to fix so I can make it better.

"Since when does Snape compliment Gryffindors?"

Hermione asked, settling down for lunch, across from Harry and Ron. Her growing disdain for the exchange student was apparent in her tone.

"If any one of us deserves a compliment "

"Like Snape would ever compliment you, Hermione," Harry interjected crossly. He really did not want to get started on this subject again. Hermione, looking positively dumbfounded at Harry's blatant rudeness.

"Maybe he's turned over a new leaf. You know, being in the order and all," Ron added, meekly, trying to smooth over the situation before it got out of hand.

"That's highly unlikely," said Harry, remembering how Snape had looked at him and Neville. It was still the same Snape he'd met first year.

"It all has to do with that girl . . . I'm certain of it," said Harry grudgingly. Something about mentioning her brought about a terrible excitement, an excitement he dreaded because he couldn't understand it.

"There's definitely an enchantment about her, "said Hermione, quite haughtily in Harry's opinion. Then, there was that look. Harry had only seen that look two times before: when they learned of the Sorcerer's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets. Harry figured that intense studying was on its way.

While Hermione rushed off to the library for the remainder of lunch, Harry and Ron finished what was on their plated, and headed off to Divination.

She'd always felt this sort of draining while she was awake. In fact, she would have thought it abnormal of she didn't feel it, under regular circumstances. But here, in this facility, in Hogwarts, it was much more tiring. So she left. She spent her first night at a neighboring town. The change of clothes undoubtedly necessary, for she was among nonmagical humans or "muggles" as they called them.

She sat in the darkest corner of the bar, accessing the draining. It was menial now, as it always had been. But now she was infinitely more curious about it. Why was it so strong in the company of witches and wizards, and what exactly was it?

As she was thinking, it stopped. It was like a switch she'd never known about had been shut off. She felt immediately more relaxed. But she still had no true answers.

No worries, they would come soon.

The barkeeper approached her, asking for ID.

She looked at him, the same as she'd always dome to mortals that didn't interest her. They usually left her alone after that. He didn't.

"I need to see your ID, miss."

Strange, he didn't seem any different from the others, those that looked at her with dreamy, lustful eyes and obeyed her every command. Wait . . .

Switch.

The look.

He was on his way.

She was absolutely elated. She learned something new about herself; which was always the main goal. No wonder she couldn't go anywhere without people staring at her. They were literally spellbound. How delicious.

And now, for her dinner.

There was a man who'd watched her enter the bar; he waited outside now, gun in hand. He meant to rape her. She smiled.

Oh yes. You'll do just fine.

Step one: Channeling. Complete.

Egyptian Magic was indeed tedious. Much more than Alchemy of any sort, or the potion making she'd experienced earlier that day, why, she was able to do that without much concentration at all. She figured that mastering all the magics of this world would come easy to her, even if she had yet to experiment with her own wand.

Cherry wood, 13", Mermaid's Hair core. Pliable. A special wand. Excellent for all types of spell casting, and rather easy to work with. It grew hot when she held it, and shone a bright gold.

When she wasn't studying the Egyptian Magic, she was in the library filling her head with all matters of practical knowledge. It wouldn't do well to simply not know the answer to a problem any of the younger grades would've mastered. She was especially intrigued by wand lore, and the process by which one goes about making a wand. She particularly wondered how a strand of her hair would serve as a core.

She had found that she liked Hogwarts, for its never ending fount of knowledge if nothing else. She'd figured that learning from books was all well and good, but to experience magic in this type of environment would be much more fruitful. And she was learning so very much. The only things she didn't like were the adolescents and the homework.

She was standing next to the book shelves, perpetually turning the pages of yet another wand lore book, reading swiftly the way a vampire if apt to do. The switch was off, no mystical allure to confound the humans around her. The all went about their business, except one.

She looked up to see a girl, staring at her with a hint of distaste. It was the same girl she'd seen walking in front of her after getting off of the train. Naomi paid her no mind and went back to reading, still eerily fast.

Before she got carried away, she remembered she had a class. What was it? Ahhh, Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Naomi had a feeling she would not like this woman. No, she hadn't encountered such a woman before the only humans she'd dealt with were criminals but, when you get to be about 200-years-old, you can tell these sorts of things in an instant. This wouldn't be an issue, however. She supposed she could have fun with the woman, especially with her new found gift.

And so she sat, the closest location to the window suited her now, for she had a feeling that she would be otherwise bored if she didn't have scenery to stare at.

The other students filed in quietly, no doubt wary of the two women already there, perhaps the new student more than the new teacher.

She stood, the teacher that is, and greeted the class, once everyone had been seated. A few mumbled back, which apparently wasn't to her liking, for she made them say it again, this time louder and with almost everyone's participation. Naomi stared out the window. The woman went on.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" False sweetness. Complete aristocrat.

"Wands away and quills out, please." The class obliged. Naomi didn't even have her wand out, though she did follow the second instruction. However, instead writing the notes the professor had put on the board, she began to sketch and extremely lifelike picture of a stormy Mediterranean Sea. It made her feel like a rebel.

"Has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slincard?"

Again a mumble. Again a repeat. Again Naomi stared out the window.

There was a command given out to read, and so she did, but not just the fist chapter. She's read then entire book in about five minutes, once more perpetually flipping pages. The professor watched her, she could feel it, obviously displeased. Naomi noticed the girl from the train and the library had her hand in the air, trying to get the woman's attention, though she paid her no mind. Either she was looking at Naomi, or the other direction entirely, effectively ignoring her. Naomi went back to her sketch.

Some time passed Naomi didn't know how much, simply because immortals often lose track of time before the woman finally decided to acknowledge the bushy haired girl.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"

"Not about the chapter, no."

"Well, we're reading right now. If you have other queries, we can deal with them after class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," said the bushy haired girl.

"And your name is . . .?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Ms. Granger, I think the course aims are quite clear, if you read them through carefully," said the professor, trying to cover her obvious malice with a sweet tone. It wasn't working.

"Well, I don't. There's nothing up there about using defensive spells."

This caught Naomi's attention. If this course was all about reading, Naomi would have to drop it. She could read well enough on her own.

"Using defensive spells? Why, I can't imagine any situation that would require you to use a defensive spell in my class. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked in class?"

Naomi laughed, louder than she would have liked. It was full and hearty, yet sweet and pretty. It was a monster's laugh. The professor looked at her, as did the rest of the class. While they were puzzled, the woman seemed somewhat furious.

"Is there something funny Miss . . . . ?"

"Oh, nothing," Naomi replied silkily, smooth accent rather prominent. She put down her quill, and folded her hands comfortably under her chin, smiling prettily. No, not enough to see the cusped canines. She decided against turning the switch on. She wanted to push the woman as far as she could.

"It's simply that . . ." Naomi trailed off, gazing out the window.

"That . . .?" the woman pried.

Smile gone, she snapped her head back to the woman, predatory look in those beautiful amber eyes. Everyone was either staring at the woman, or her.

"That you seem to forget how easy it is to end a human life." She spoke loud, too loud for such a tender looking girl, her tone was venomous.

The woman looked absolutely stunned, as did the class. It was apparent that no one was really thinking of death as the consequence of not practicing magic. They were all concerned about a test.

The woman's shock turned to anger, and she would have spoken, if Naomi hadn't cut her off.

"It matters not . . ." Naomi said in a liquid voice, her eyes trailing to the window again. "No matter how many stones you cast upon the water's surface, or how hard you stomp your boots upon the creeping shadows, they will no submit to your will. Such is the river of Death. Death is a force beyond human comprehension, and It will not be denied its bounty."

There was a moment of silence before the woman spoke.

"And your name is . . .?"

She looked back at the professor, smiling.

"The Bird of Hermes is my name, eating my wings to make me tame."

"Deten-" started to woman, though Naomi cut her off.

"It's fine," she said simply.

Switch on.

"Everything is fine," she repeated. The woman was silent.

Just then, the bell rang to signal the end of the period. The students all gathered their things and made to exit as quickly as possible. Naomi smiled, taking her leave. She was most assuredly in a good mood now.

Dinner was . . . odd. The seeming spell that the new student had on everyone seemed to have broken with the news of her behavior in DADA. Harry in particular felt what she said was true, even if a bit morbid. He still didn't know what to think about her.

She was there, seated at the dinner table, plate full of food. She chatted happily with those around her. She seemed more in her element now, instead of the way she was last night, silent and cold.

I knew she wasn't shy.

Even though Harry still found her extremely beautiful, and he absolutely loved the sound of her voice, the measure of her allure seemed diluted. He was still capable of rational thought when she locked eyes with him, which surprised Harry, and made him feel infinitely more at ease.

He found himself taking a coherent liking to her, despite his earlier paranoia, not only for her beauty and her grace, but for how she had made Umbridge furious during class, even if she didn't bring up Voldemort, which Harry would have certainly done. He wondered if Americans even knew about him. And if they did, what did she think?

No one like that could be on his side. And since when did Voldemort recruit kids? And she certainly couldn't be from the ministry, or Umbridge wouldn't have acted so hostile with her. No, she had to be here on her own accord. Harry'd dismissed her previous unhealthy obsession with her as just curiosity and infatuation.

While Harry was entertaining his sudden change of heart, Hermione was going on about something that happened in the library.

"It was just so strange, and eerie. I think she was actually reading."

"Come off it. There's nothing strange about someone skimming through a book in the library," said Ron dismissively.

"Well," Hermione started and angry retort, before Harry cut in.

"Don't you two start again." He said, playing over his apple pie. He really didn't want to listen to them bicker. "We should go get started on our homework." He suggested.

They agreed, and made for the Dormitory, and when Harry glanced over to get another look at the girl, she was gone.

She was, however, in the common room when they arrived, seated in a chair by the fire, reading the golden book intently. The three friends exchanged looks, Ron wondering if they should take this time to try to make friends with her, Harry just wanted to find a good place to sit where he could glance at her with ease, and Hermione just simply not liking the situation. They sat in their favorite chairs, with were in extremely close proximity to her, and got out their homework.

She looked up, and they all looked back at her. This was the closest they'd ever seen her, and Harry studied her features thoroughly.

Her eyes were large and light brown, and they sparkled gold in the light of the fire. Her nose was somewhat small, rounded definitely African. Her mouth was small and her lips plump, giving her an over all kitten appearance. Her hair was long, wavy, dark, and absolutely vibrant. She wasn't wearing her robe, so Harry could see that she had a small, delicate build. She looked absolutely harmless.

"Good evening," she said, deliciously, smiling. Her southern accent made Harry's head reel.

Ron and Harry replied back, not sounding nearly as smooth as she. Hermione replied with a stiffly distant and formal "How do you do."

"I don't believe I've introduced myself to you yet," she continued. Harry was glad that she wasn't having the same effect on him now as she did yesterday. He probably would have jumped her.

"My name is Naomi de LaBoucher. I come from New Orleans, a city in the States. I am pleased to meet you."

They all introduced themselves in reply, Hermione perhaps sharper than the other two.

"And what school did you transfer from?" Hermione asked with an interrogating tone.

Harry and Ron looked at her, then back at Naomi.

"Sorry," Ron offered, "She's a bit rude. She doesn't mean any harm."

"It's perfectly alright," she responded easily, before Hermione could give Ron a smart retort. She relaxed back in her chair smiling at them her eyelids half-lidded. She looked as if she was experiencing some divine pleasure from all this.

"I come from the ternel Magical Institute. It's a lot smaller than this school . . ." she trailed off, looking at the fire.

"You were brilliant in DADA today," said Ron dreamily, "The way you shut that old hag up."

She chuckled lightly.

"What made you say all that?" Ron asked.

"It's the truth. Besides, I didn't transfer here to read. I could do that anywhere."

"I'm glad you cut in," added Harry. "I have the feeling that if you didn't, I would have gotten myself in a lot of trouble."

"Oh?" said Naomi, with a raise of a delicate eyebrow, "How so?"

"I would have said something about Lord Voldemort," he blurted. Both Hermione and Ron shuddered. Naomi however remained still her gaze still on the fire.

"I've read about him," she replied, turning back to her book. Harry looked at it too. The little pictures confused him, and he would've asked about them had it not been for what she said next.

"And about you, Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived." She smiled.

He loved the way she said his name, despite the innate embarrassment he felt. He'd almost forgotten how famous or rather, infamous he was.

"Do you believe what Harry and Dumbledore say? About You-Know-Who's return?" Hermione pressed.

"If he didn't, then how could that boy have died?" she replied, almost mechanically.

Harry was elated. She believed him.

"You should really start you homework, monsieur." said Naomi gesturing toward Harry. "I'm going to bed.

The boys mumbled a quiet goodnight as they watched her climb the stairs to the girl's dormitory. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Thank you to reviewers:

Escapade

xXDramione-luvXx


	5. That Sneaky Lying Cow!

A.N. Wow two years. My bad.

I figure I like Alan Rickman, as opposed to book Snape. So, picture his portrayal while reading this.

Spoiler alert! Since Naomi can read minds she knows thigs about the characters that don't come out until later books. Bare this in mind.

WARNING! this chapter contains a GRAPHIC VIOLENT MURDER SCENE. when she gets done talking to harry, she leaves cause she's thirsty. the ... is when it goes back to harry's point of view, if the murder bothers you. :)

This chapter kinda plays filler. Naomi is more comfortabe with her surrounding and is filling and spare time by toying with the humans. The next chapter, which is soon to come will involve Dumbledore's Army, among other things :)

Enjoy. Feedback is much appreciated. i want to make this better.

Naomi wasn't much for keeping up with current events. She'd lived through many a human war (mainly the world wars) cloaked in disinterest, as was par usual with the elder vampires (though she didn't know this). Mind you, she could tell you all matter of details about them, for, all in all she had an insatiable thirst for knowledge. But on the matter of choosing political stand points of said wars, that was never her cup of tea.

So when young Ronald Weasley asked her about the return of Voldemort, she answered only in such a way that would please the group, so that they would not bother her for very long.

She herself did not know what she believed on this matter, simply because it had nothing to do with what she'd set out to accomplish in her new surroundings. The children everywhere were distraction enough already, without them badgering her. She had to be friendly-ish, she supposed, to her school mates to cut down on possible irritants. Mortals that bothered her she either kept spell bound, or killed. And now that she knew life without the constant draining of The Mind Gift - she'd taken to calling it- she only used it when playing the teachers and briefly when outside the castle walls. And it simply would do to snap the neck of one of these tender youths inside the castle. That would be much more trouble than it was worth.

Naomi had never been around humans this long, let alone children. And never in such close proximity for any amount of time, well since she'd been turned, that is. And that had been so long ago that she couldn't really remember what they were like. All she knew of humans really was from he study of history, which led her to perceive that they were greedy and power hungry. And the ones she usually dealt with did nothing to change her line of thinking, seeing as she deliberately sought out the scum of the earth.

And this had nothing to do with any self righteous, viilante goal. It was only because the truly evil tasted so much better.

She'd often found herself thinking was a man like Hitler would've tasted like. Or Voldemort.

If what the Potter boy said was true, then she might get a sample. That alone was almost enough to make her somewhat befriend the boy, seeing as he seemed to have an encounter with said man each year. Almost. She still didn't like humans.

But she found that she'd preferred the company of the adults more, if she'd gotten the chance. Hormonal teenagers were not her fancy in the least, and the nights she did spend the the dormitory, the girls and they're nonsensical gossip and chatter would've driven her insane, if not for her Hearing Gift.

The Hearing Gift. This is the name she'd given to the power that allowed her to hear things from very, very far away, as far as her home in New Orleans, and also control what she could hear. If her maker had instructed her properly, she'd have known that all elders have this gift, or curse as it were. Upon awakening, one would be flooded with the voices and thoughts of both mortals and immortals alike, and the various sounds of the industrial world, and that shutting them out was crucial for ones sanity. One could call it super hearing, but to Naomi it sounded like something out of a comic book.

As for how she was fairing at Hogwarts, she was an excellent scholar, she caught on remarkably fast to everything, turned in all her assignments on time, always got perfect scores on everything given to her. She soaked up information like a sponge, and was a wiz at solving thinking problems and coming up with clever solutions. Whenever she spoke out in class, she had something interesting, if not morbid, to say. She never got in trouble, simply because of the Mind Gift, because she did indeed enjoy picking at her teachers, especially Dolores and Severus.

Which one she liked better? It was hard to tell. They both had no idea that at any particular moment Naomi might be probing around in their thoughts, in order to shock them with a seemingly innocent remark.

Dolores was more easily flustered than Severus, particularly in subjects having to do with the use of spells, and the return of He Who Must Not Be Named. Every time the subject was matter was brought up, instead of letting the Potter boy explode, she'd simply interject, "But even if He hasn't returned, there are still dangerous people and creatures that would jump at the chance to brutally murder any one of us. You seem to forget just how sick people and be. Why do you think eleven year old girls and boys are sold into sex slavery? It's disgusting what people will do for money. And then there are the truly insane, like that man that killed fourteen women in a variety of heinous fashions, simply to be famous. There's more evil in the world that just Voldemort. So, then, how do we protect ourselves from them?"

Such little speeches always left Dolores in a kind of ill stupor, and before she, or any one else for that matter, could recover from the blunt ghastliness from her little mini rants, the bell would sound, and it would be time for the next class.

And then there was Severus.

Severus Snape could've very well been a vampire. He was the total misanthrope, and very complicated man. By far the most interesting human she'd encountered that wasn't a cold blooded killer. Sometimes, she would be abruptly shut out of his mind, a skill she didn't know any human could possess, but on other occasions, she could penetrate his mind easily and without his detection. If it wasn't for these brief plunges into his mind, she'd have to wonder why someone like him would ever take a teaching job. Granted he was a genius when it a came to potion making, but that was all. He wasn't really a good teacher per se. Instead, he opted to scare good grades out of his students.

It may very well have been the Mind Gift that had so shocked him upon first meeting her, so know that it had been switched off, he did his best to try and ignore her, instead of trying to berate or frighten her.

This amused her.

So much so that she'd taken something akin to a liking to the Potion Master. He was fun to play with. He became nervous whenever she'd look at him, mostly fearing that the strange swoon would overtake him like the the first time, and partly welcoming it, for he did indeed find her to be an exceedingly attractive girl. He'd hide this almost perfectly, almost because she could still tell by reading his mind. And she would do silly, girlish things like smile and bat her thick eyelashes at him when she caught him staring - as all the human men do- , or speaking in an overtly sensual tone when answering a question.

He'd sneer at her raised hand, for usually it was only her and the Granger girl who knew the answers to questions, and deciding he'd much rather hear her smooth southern American drawl, rather than the know-it-all tone of the other, he'd call on her anyway.

She found that he's always think of Lilly Evans, his former one sided love, after dealing with her directly. He was fighting his attraction, mainly because she was a student of fifteen, or so he thought, and often compared Naomi to Lilly. Then berating himself mentally for thinking of either of them in such a way.

Naomi, being the conceited little thing that she was, disliked this entirely, for she found herself to be superior to every woman in every way. Especially seeing as, she'd never had to work at making any man fall for her, what with the Mind Gift. even now that it was turned off, every male was infatuated with the exoticism of for lightly husky voice, her small frame and pretty face. All save for this man, who did indeed find her gorgeous, but wasn't totally in love with her. And that simply wouldn't do, seeing as she'd all ready given him special attention. So, she decided that, while she wasn't tending to her personal studies with the Egyptian magic, she'd make this man fall wholly and irrevocably in love with her.

Harry was up to his neck in homework. He and Ron had been at it all day on Sunday, having left all their homework from the week till the weekend, after Quidditch practice, which by the way was a nightmare. Ron, as new keeper, wasn't doing quite as well as expected, given it was his first practice, and to top it all off, the Slytherins had been in the stands, jeering them the whole time.

Only Ron, Hermione, Crookshanks, and Harry had been left in the common room at that time, seeing as it was after midnight, officially Monday morning. Hermione, possibly tired of waiting for them to finish (she'd done hers in a more timely manner), or perhaps sympathizing with the boys' situation, Harry having had a horrible first week due to the slanders in the Daily Prophet, amongst most of his classmates treating him like a loon, and both of the boys being immensely agitated by the letter Percy had just sent, about Ron needing to sever ties with Harry and his parents, offered to help them out with their last essay.

Harry took this brief break to think about yesterday. Early on Saturday morning, he'd awoken to write a letter to Sirius, about his first week of school, Umbridge, the new girl, and the strange feelings he'd had when she'd first arrived, and about his scar, which was more hurting now, on and off. And just as he was sending it, Cho Chang had walked in, and they'd actually managed to have a normal, decent conversation with her. It left him feeling elated, but still not nearly as good as just looking at Naomi . . .

Naomi . . . .

He'd only known her for a week, and already he couldn't get his mind off her. He'd always steal glances at her during classes, daydreamed about her during practice, hell, he was even thinking about her now! He'd hadn't really spoken to her since that night, save for the cordial greetings - a nervous Hello from him, and a silky Bonjour from her. He figured he had enough going on in his life without liking any girl, let alone two, one being so far out of his league he was surprised that she spoke to him at all.

Just then, he saw something out of the corner of his eye . . . something in the fire . ..Sirius' head.

He'd gotten on all fours, next to it and whispered "Sirius?"

"Yes?" His god father reappeared, grinning at him. "Thought you'd go to bed before the room cleared out. I've been checking every hour."

Harry wasn't surprised at this, he'd talked to Sirus like this before, last year, during the Triwizard Tournament, in this very fire.

"So you fancy this new girl eh?" Sirus said, winking.

Ron looked at Harry, with mock betrayal on his face, Hermione with apparent disgust. Harry flushed.

"It's not like that . . . I fancy someone else, it's just that - "

"She's got some sort of love charm on her, that's what," Hermione cut in. "It was really strong when she first came, but it's died down now. I'm sure of that. How do you know about her anyway?" she asked, irritated.

"Relax children, " Sirius said, grining, "I just figured i'd tease Harry about it sine he wrote about her in the letter-"

"Letter?" Both Hermione and Ron said, looking at Harry.

"Forgot to tell you . . . ."

"And why would you write to Sirus about her? It's not like she's anyone importa-"

"My ears are burning, someone must be talking about me."

There was a small popping sound, which meant Sirius had disappeared. None of them saw this, for they stood immediately, as they were all crouching to talking to Sirius.

And there she was. Harry and Ron almost sighed, looking at her. She was in Muggle clothes, and revealing ones at that. A tight black corset and frills of silver, cut low enough for a perfect view of ample cleavage, and cut off high enough to view her taut, lightly muscled abs and navel. Pants of leather tightly stretched over her somewhat thick thighs and tucked into neck-breaker high heeled black boots. As thin as she was, she had the most delicious curves. Her raven hair, which was pulled back at the top, and left to hang to the back, and her skin glowed in the fire light, making her look even more ethereal. To top off the look, she'd worn thick, dark eyeliner and rouged her lips. Harry nearly swooned at the sight. Ron's ears were violently red. Hermione scowled.

"No one was talking about you." She said crossly, folding her arms.

"Ah, " Naomi said, smiling lightly, and nodding her head. "Not talking about me, just talking to a fire. No wonder everyone thinks you're weird."

Hermione looks very offended, Ron looked lost, but Harry actually chuckled.

"No, we were just talking to Sir-" he was cut off by Hermione's elbow in his side. Naomi chuckled softly.

I almost told her about Sirius!

"Sirius Black, mass murder, and your Godfather? Interesting." She said smiling. "I'd ask what about. But I'm running a little behind. Don't wait up for me. Bonne Nuit," she said lightly smirking, before walking toward the portrait hole. the trio was too stunned, horrified even, to respond.

Hermione's fears were the only ones not eased in the slightest when Naomi turned her head, just before climbing through the portrait hole, and said "Don't you fret. I won't tell a soul," and disappeared.

She hadn't gotten more that a few steps away from the Fat Lady before she heard Harry running after her. So. instead of taking off at full vampire speed, she merely kept a human pace. It'd would've been odd to stop and wait for him, for she should'nt have been able to hear him coming yet.

"Wait!" he called out quietly.

She stopped then, turning about to face him, slowly, pretty smile gracing her full lips.

"He's not like what they say!" He wasn't worried that she'd tell. but he wanted to clear up any misconceptions about him. She laughed internally. The boy is entirely too trusting.

"He's no murderer! He was framed! He's good! He's on our side!"

Our side?

She raised a brow, clearly amused. A quick sweep through his mind and she knew it was true, not that she cared either way. She also knew that Harry had believed that she was good as well, and that she, in believing that Voldemort was back, would fight on against him when the time came. She supposed she should look through his mind to see what he saw the night Cedric Diggory died. but that would have to be later. Right now, she thirsted.

Switch on.

"It's alright. I believe you. And I won't tell a soul about tonight. No, go back inside."

The boy blushed deep, and swallowed heavily, and nodding, turning back toward The Fat Lady, spoke the password, and when inside.

Several moments later, she was in the a common nightclub, looking for her meal. this was a man she'd been stalking for quite sometime now. On purpose she'd let him see her many times and in several different places. he'd thought her an angel of death, come to drag him into heal for all the sins he'd committed.

This man was responsible for the disappearance of many girls and women in the area. he'd kidnapped them from the streets, clubs, even their own homes and turned them into his own personal sex slaves, in a dungeon, moreso a basement in the outskirts of town.

As uncaring as she prided herself, she'd stolen a large van that was parked near the dungeon, and made arrangements at a rehabilitation/therapy center to take the 34 women in, after that they'd be medically examined, and they would stay as long as needed. the center would provide job counseling and help with housing when the program was finished. Anything else that was needed Naomi would par for, anonymously, of course.

She'd been dancing when he arrived. And he had looked around for a new girl that caught his eye for some tome when he finally saw her.

He was tall and fit, but unattractive in the face. And he was dressed poorly. Not like most of her slick drug lords, who tended to be beautiful. But looks didn't really matter. she was just going to kill him anyway.

The man had, upon seeing her, prompt;y turned and ran out, heading for his little dungeon, to find solace in rape.

She figured she wait until he got there, and take him down before he had a chance to make his evening better.

He was just about to head down when she'd walked through his front door. He panicked, knowing that he'd locked his door, and that this woman in front of him was not human. Nevertheless, he'd run for his gun, and emptied its chamber in her chest. All the while she stood there laughing, bullet holes leaking only a little blood, for her wounds had healed in a fraction of a second. This was inconvenient, seeing as now she wouls have to make new holes in order to dig the bullets out. The man was screaming

"DIE! DIE! WHY WON'T YOU DIE!"

"Simple, monsieur, I'm already dead."

And with that she'd closed the distance between them, too quick for his eyes to see, and struck him down. He kept a letter opener in his pocket, which he was planning to use during to torturous, sadistic foreplay. She was now using it to carve "RAPIST" into his chest. She left his arms to flail about and strike her. It'd didn't hurt, but it was annoying, so she used her telekinetic power to hold him still and quiet him a little.

Once she'd put the finishing touches on her little design, she pulled down his pants and brabbed his manhood roughly. he whimpered.

"You, " she started, pressing the letter opener against the shriveled, unimpressive flesh, beginning to cut, "have been very naught with this. I have to take it away, since you can't play nicely."

With her strength she could've sliced clean through, but found so much amusement in his muffled cries of agony and terror, that she took her time.

And once this little task was done, and he was about to pas out from the pain, she locked her fangs into his neck, and drank greedily, until his died. She moved to body so the girls wouldn't see it when leaving.

The dungeon was dimly lit, and all the girls looked at her, terrified and thinking she would kill them as well. They flinched when she broke there steel bonds easily with her bare hands, but obeyed when she handed them clothes (they'd all been naked) and told them to dress. They followed her upstairs, outside, and into the van, looking at they're feel all the while, as they'd been trained to do. once they were all in the van, which was more of a bus, Naomi said "you're nightmare is over," and in a matter of show, she snapped her fingers, and set the house ablaze.

That feeling that had made Harry loathe seeing Naomi had come back, and without knowing exactly why, he was climbing back through the portrait hole. He'd known what it was like to be under the Imperius Curse from last year with the Fake Moody, so he knew it wasn't that, but it was this odd and foreign will that was being imposed on him he knew that much.

He came back over to Hermione and Ron who stared at him, still horrified.

"She won't tell, " harry said quickly, for of that part he was indeed certain, however . ..

"How do you know Harry!" Hermione was practically shouting. "She could be on her way to alert someone right now! Where was she going anyway?" Herminone made to follow after when Sirius popped back into the fire, looking only slightly worried. Harry crouched beside the fire again, leaving Hermione to go running after her, and Ron just looked dumbstruck by the whole situation.

"She won't tell, " he said. Sirius raised a brow. Harry began to ramble.

"It happened again, that weird feeling we got when she first came, like we were all in love with her or something. no not like a Veela, cause the girls were staring too. Then she told me to do something and I just did it. It's couldn't have been magic, cause she didn't have her wand. SHE DIDN'T HAVE HER WAND! And whatever she did she did it so she could leave sooner. She left the grounds, I just know she did. To do what I don't kno. She knows it's you we were talking to. I said about half your name, and she just guessed the rest, but she won't tell! she believes that you're innocent! And she left-"

"Harry!" Sirius whispered sharply, "Slow down and breathe! How do you know she believes you?"

"Harry!" Hermione came, looking frazzled, "The map!"

"That's not important!" Harry was saying, shaking his head, "I don't think she cares, she just left the grounds, and she didn't have her want! And she did that thing again."

It took Sirius quite sometime to calm everyone down, and then harry went to fetch the Marauder's Map while Hermione and Sirius all about how she gets away with all the things she says to Umbridge, and about the swooning. the map only confirmed Harry's suspicions that Naomi had left the castle. This worried Hermione even more, even with harry continuously saying "She won't tell. She won't tell."

Upon leaving, Sirius told them to be very wary of her, because he really didn't have an answer for their worries, and he did promise to lay low. Hermione was frantic and decided she'd wait up all night if she had to, for that sneaky lying cow to come back, while Harry and Ron, both dazed, dragged themselves to bed.

Well there you have it! :) rated M because of the murder scene and for the thoughts she's going to put in snape's head from now one. please review!

thank you to reviewers:

michi-nin

ShadowWolf181

3 3 3


	6. Power of Persuasion

Forgive me if some of the events seem rushed through. I've forgotten to put a few key things in and am trying to compensate. Also, sorry for the slow updates. I've changed Naomi's age drastically. It doesn't really effect anything, really, except future flash backs.

Who wants to be my beta?

This chapter starts out a bit sexually intense, just to warn you.

Thank you soooo much to my wonderful reviewers! 3

ShadowWolf181

MegPotter123

michi-nin

Sonny13

* * *

_"Ow!" the girl cried pathetically, her grip on the desk tightening as she squealed._

_"Count, " Snape commanded stoically, his voice doing very well to hide his immense arousal as he regarded the scene before him. Naomi was bent over his desk, her skirt pulled up around her abdomen, and tiny white cotton panties clinging to he shapely rear, which was quickly turning red._

_"T-two . . ." she sobbed. Her brought his hand down_ _harshly_,_ the resounding slap echoing throughout his office, along with her feeble cry, much to his delight. How girlish she sounded during her punishment. He enjoyed the rather high-pitched sounds that resonated from the deliciously plump lips, so unlike her everyday low, __easy_ Southern American drawl.

_He struck her seven more times before snatching a handful of her hair roughly, lifting her from the desk and swiftly turning her to face him._

_"What do you say?" he teased, menacing._

_She hesitated, cutely biting her bottom lip. He released her hair to grab hold of her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye._

_"What do you say?" he repeated, with the smallest hint of lust lacing those words._

_"Thank you, Professor Snape. Thank you for punishing me, " she replied meekly, in a voice so unlike her, so small, so fragile . . ._

_"And why were you being punished?" he pressed, his mouth now close to her ear._

_"For not paying attention during class," she stated in an even smaller voice than before. Her eyes shut and she shifted uncomfortably under his powerful gaze. He knew she was aroused. He could see the wet spot that had formed while he spanked her._

_"You'll be a good girl from now on, won't you?" his own voice was little more than a whisper, his nose slightly grazing over her hair, his lips mere centimeters from her ear. She audibly moaned._

_"Yes, Professor . . ." her voice was returning to her little by little, emboldened by her excitement._

_"But you're already being naughty again, " he smirk as his free hand went straight to the wetness between her thighs. She bucked and cried out in response. Her eyes shot open - _

_Sharp pain in his neck . . . _

___Before he'd recognized any movement in her, she had her face buried in his neck, which led him to assume that the pain was caused from a bite._ He was having trouble standing. The sudden change in the energy between he and her was enough to make his head spin. He hadn't even seen her move, and what was even more puzzling was that he could only feel two distinct punctures in his neck. But that didn't make sense, unless the little exotic american beauty had fangs . . . . _His world began to darken, even with his eyes shot wide open at the sudden pain . . . he was quickly losing consciousness, and . . . blood - _

Snape woke with a start, cold sweat drenching his entire form from the exceedingly graphic dream. Nevermind the last part, which was odd in and of itself, but the fact that he had just had an erotic dream about a student, an underage student, an underage student that he found himself, for lack of a better word, _pining_, over even in full consciousness racked his nerves. He honestly hadn't a clue how to deal with this, besides trying to avoid her even more in the future and trying to go back to sleep. The latter proved extremely difficult, for his body had prompted a physical response to the dream, and he refused to "take care of it", an act which would make this sin all the more worse.

Maybe Snape had finally lost his mind, what with all the pressure of today's world mounting. Voldemort had returned, and Snape was forced to play spy. His involvement with the Order, extra missions with Dumbledore, teaching, and having absolutely no one in this world to really talk to, to calm him, ease him, to . . .

The nonsense! Entirely too much was going on at the moment for him to start feeling sorry for himself.

Tomorrow was going to be a terrible day.

...

Naomi neither returned to the dormitory, nor was present at breakfast. And Hermione was beyond herself with worry. It didn't help matters much at all when the Daily Prophet arrived, with not only a headline of Dolores Umbridge becoming the new High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, but also an article claiming that Sirius Black was spotted _in London_.

"Do you believe me now?" Hermione whispered frantically, "Do you believe that she can't be trusted now!"

Harry was still in a mild state of shock from the night before, after being . . . bewitched? . . . by her again, how easily he did was she said. She hadn't a wand on her at all, so it couldn't have been something so complex and powerful as the Imperius curse . . . but Harry had been able to fight off that curse last year, when the fake Moody had demonstrated it on him in front of the class. So, did that mean, whatever she did, was stronger than an Unforgivable Curse?

"Come off it 'Mione," Ron said irritably. "You know the Prophet's always guessing where he might be! Why, just last week, he was supposed to be in Japan. Besides, what's in it for Naomi to rat him out? Especially when we saw her sneaking out last night?Really Hermione, you're letting your paranoia get the best of you."

"You don't know _anything_ about her at all! For all we know -"

"Please!" Harry interjected, snatched out of his faint stupor by their bickering. "We're going to have a tough enough day with this Umbridge business, _without _you two going at it all day. Come on, if she's inspecting Binns, we don't want to be late."

Umbridge, however, wasn't there to inspect Binns, and Naomi seemed to be missing as well. Harry began to think that Naomi wasn't taking History of Magic at all, just like Hermione had opted out of Divination. She was again already in the dungeons when they arrived, studying her golden book rather intently, and paid them no mind when they'd arrived. Harry would've like to speak to her, greet her in some way, but decided not to for fear of _that __feeling_ overcoming him again. He suspected that Hermione would've had more than a few choice words for her if Professor Snape hadn't been seated already at his desk, staring at them coldly, and looking uncharacteristically disheveled and irritated, much like he hadn't slept very well the previous night.

Snape rose and proceeded to sweep through the room, handing back moonstone essays, and, to Harry's surprised, faltered when he neared Naomi, who, turned up her head from her book to look at the professor, smiling sweetly, as she gingerly took her essay from him.

It seemed she made Snape rather uncomfortable, which was hard to understand, in Harry's opinion. Just last week, he was giving her compliments, the only time in history, Harry supposed, Snape had ever complimented a Gryffindor. And now he was acting like a nervous teenager with a crush.

That was a disturbing thought, for entirely too many reasons than Harry wanted to sort out.

Perhaps . . . she was using her wandless magic on him as well? And Umbridge too?

Harry was jolted out of this reverie when he received his own essay, with a large, spikey "D" scrawled in the upper left hand corner. Snape tried smirking at them as he went on practically degrading them, saying that their work had been _abysmal, _trying his best to look as ominous and intimidating, but he just seemed _off_ today.

The lesson went on in silence, Harry's solution turning out a great deal better than last week's, but not perfect like Hermione's and Naomi's. He did endeavor to remain focused on the task at hand, and kept his subtle glances at the American girl to a minimum.

. . .

After having watched Trelawney being completely bullied during her inspection with the new High Inquisitor, Harry had to suffer through her presence again in Defense against the Dark Arts, where again they were made to read a chapter out of the book. Hermione started a scene again, because she, in true Hermione fashion had finished reading to book already. Umbridge had taken points from Gryffindor because of this, stating that it was an "unnecessary disruption", and that the class was not intended for students to give their opinion on matters that "they understood very little." Just when Harry felt his blood about to boil over, and felt the extreme need to let that old toad really have it, Naomi chimed in.

"You would think that if we're not going to do any magic at all, we'd at least be allowed the privilege of classroom discussion."

Umbridge, striving to keep up her sickeningly sweet persona, blinked twice slowly, before opening her mouth to speak. Naomi, however, cut her off, and with a very demeaning tone, continued, "I find your teaching skills to be absolutely abysmal. If you were being inspected, by anyone with any level of competence, you'd be dismissed immediately. I mean, _really_, "-she flipped her hair girlishly-" we don't really _need you here_ if all we're going to do is read."

There was something deeply disturbing, even menacing, in her tone when she said the words "need you here" and Harry visibly shivered. Umbridge looked at her blankly, a sort of lost look in her eyes, though her face overall still poised in a matter that said "What you say or think has no effect whatsoever on _anything._"

The entire class new full well if anyone else had said that, they'd have a month's worth of detention.

. . .

Hermione was still fretting over Naomi, as hadn't gotten a chance to accost her, and when dinner came, she was past her limit in nervousness and fury. She spotted Naomi, seated today furthest for the the teachers table, and before Harry or Ron could stop her, she marched straight over to the little southern belle, slammed her books down on the table next to Naomi, who was always present at dinner. Naomi, who'd been studying her golden book rather intently, hadn't even flinched at the sudden intrusion, and continued to pay the girl no mind, until she sat down and said in a very angry whisper, "_You told someone about Sirius didn't you?!"_

Naomi arched an eyebrow, but did not look up from her book.

"W_here did you go? I know you left the castle. I'm a prefect you know. I could punish you for being out after hours! Tell me where you went, and so help me if you told anyone about Sirius . . . ."_

Naomi raised a hand, and Hermione paused, thinking she was about to get an explanation, but Naomi merely returned to reading her book. Harry and Ron had sat down by then, opposite to two girls, and were nervously looking between the two. The students in the Hall were already glancing at Naomi from time to time when they'd arrived, and now, that she was in the the company of the Boy Who Lies, they were paying even closer attention to the end of the Gryffindor table. Harry was worried that the girls would attract more attention than they already were.

"Y_ou think you can just do whatever you want, because of that love charm you've got on you, but it's not going to work on me! It hasn't since you've been here."_

The American beauty sighed, looking more annoyed that affronted.

"You should be nicer to me, Miss Granger. It was _I_ who saw _you_ talking to the head of Sirius Black in the Gryffindor common room, if I'm not mistaken. You who stand to risk more than I, for being out after hours."

Harry, as well as Ron and Hermione, were shocked. Harry morseo than the others, because he'd been so taken with Naomi recently, that he'd have never thought her capable of some so low and Slytherinish as blackmail. She hadn't raised her eyes from her book, but continued her speech.

"I have no interest in reporting you, if that's what you're worried about. But neither will I stand for feeble threats from a fifteen year old girl."

She paused, seeming to consider what she'd just said. Harry and Ron, who'd began to feel relief at the first part of her statement, not sat with stupid, confused looks on their faces. Why was she talking to Hermione like she wasn't fifteen herself?

A little grin graced her plump lips then, and finally lifting her head from her golden book, she turned to Hermione. With a, for lack of a better word, _seductive_, look in her eye, she began to speak again in a whisper.

_"Let's make a deal, shall we? You tell no one of my nightly _liaisons _off school grounds, and I'll tell no one about _Monsieur _Black. _Comprenez-vous?"

There was a faint blush in Hermione's cheeks as she nodded slowly, and Harry recognized exactly what was going on, for he'd been under Naomi's spell just the previous night. He spoke before he registered making to decision to open his mouth,

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?"

Naomi turned to face him, her amber eyes boring into his emerald ones, and he became light-headed. No, she wasn't . . . doing that _thing_ again, but something else. Not nearly as strong because Harry was still able to think . . .

"Whatever it is that you do in class with Umbridge, and Snape, and what you did to me last night! and you just did it to Hermione!"

"Why whatever are you talking about dear?" her voice was like honey laced poison.

Hermione'd jolted slightly when Harry said her named, and was looking around in a kind of dazed stupor, as if she didn't know where she was. Harry was struggling to continue. Her gaze was causing a natural stammer in his voice, and his scar, which had been prickling on and off all day, was irritating him again, and making it harder to concentrate on his own confrontation.

"Y-you do mag-gic . . . w-with out a . . . . with out a . . ."

Ron was shaking him, the look on his face pure concern. Hermione still looked lost, Harry looked as if he'd pass out, and Naomi was starting at him, looking oblivious.

. . .

Naomi had miscalculated.

She'd not considered the cleverness of these wizard children. That having been exposed to magic, they might recognize when they were being enchanted. All the same, Naomi'd only discovered how it worked just last week, and while playing with it, she'd gotten . . . carried away?

Ordinary humans had never noticed the outside force guiding them. They merely registered a pretty face, and went to do whatever she'd set them to. She'd never been questioned her about it. Never in her two hundred years as a blood drinker had a human, under the power of what she now called the Mind Gift, said "What are you doing to me?", well unless she was being a little over the top whilst killing them. She made a small mental note that even magical _children_ had a knack for detecting the super natural.

Though, they were still inhibited by their own knowledge, or lack there of. She could explain her "wandless magic" away with ease, well, with more than admitting she were a vampire would permit.

"Forgive me. It gets away from me sometimes. The Boucher family is infamous for what we call 'the power of persuasion', a type of wandless magic that extends from one's suggestion, almost like the Imperius Curse, but hardly illegal as it can rarely be controlled . . . . are you feeling alright Harry?"

The redness from the children's cheeks had disappeared, and they were staring at her in disbelief, with a hint of suspicion. The girl would most certainly be checking this explanation out in the library.

"I do apologize if it's caused you any inconvenience. I'm study so hard to try to tame it."

Hermione's face was in full frown.

"So you won't tell anyone about Sirius then? How can we trust you?"

Naomi turned her head to her, little smile playing on her lips.

"I've told you already, tell no one about my midnight romps."

Hermione was still frowning. And Harry, having come out of his own stupor, was glancing around the hall, assessing if anyone outside the group was listening.

"Romps?" Hermione asked tentatively. Naomi gave a slight nod.

"Yes, _romps._ I'll be leaving the castle grounds quite often. So, do we have an accord?"

Naomi then extended her hand, in pure southern aristocratic matter. A hand which Hermione grudgingly took, shook once, let go, gathered her things and moved away from the girl. Harry looked at Hermione, then to Ron, both boys figuring they should follow their female companion, looked to Naomi to bid farewell though she was already engrossed in her book, and moved to join Hermione.

...

The next day the trio had to endure more inspections with Umbridge, first in Transfiguration, during which Professor McGonagall showed that she was no push over, as was Professor Trelawney, then in Care of Magical Creatures.

Umbridge, after a brief interrogation of Professor Grubbly-Plank, took a different tactic of inspection. Instead of following the teacher, she walked among the students, asking them general question on the subject. the students were answering very well, but Harry noticed how Umbridge took care to avoid going near Naomi, who once again was seated as far away as possible. and after another polite interrogation of the sand in teacher, Umbridge gave her pleasant remarks, and parted.

...

Later in the common room, Hermione, who seeking a distraction from the ordeal with Naomi and Sirius, of which she could do nothing about at the moment, for she had found documentation on what Naomi described as "The Power of Persuasion" (even though there was little known about how it works, just the effects), started in on how dreadful a teacher Umbridge was.

"I think it's time we do something about her," she said

"I suggest poison!" chimed in Ron passionately. Harry smirked.

"No no, nothing like that, " Hermione began, "We should do something about what an awful teacher she is. We should . . do it ourselves!" She finished resiliently.

"We can't do much by ourselves," Ron said in a defeated voice.

"No," she started again, "But if we had a suitable teacher, well . . ." she trailed off looking to Harry.

* * *

OMG that took so long! I'm so sorry guys! It should not have taken this long!

I decided to cut it off there because you guys already know what happens next. And I really didn't feel like writing it, and I don't have anything interesting planned for Naomi until a little later.

I hope the length rectifies how long it took to put it out lol, Please don't be too upset with me. I really didn't want to write because I was nursing a broken heart and i didn't want that to come out in my writing :O. but here you are! I hope you like it! Tell me if you don't! and why! so I can make it better, k?

Reviews are much appreciated :)


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